Bride by Mail

Author:Katy Madison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The snowdrifts against the back of the cabin have reached the eaves. The days are short and it may be some time before I can mail this. During the day the sun is so bright. It glances off the snow in thousands of sparkles. When you arrive the first wildflowers should be in bloom.

Jack rubbed his face. He’d done the best he could for Antonga. Olivia had stitched, although her hands had shaken badly. Gagging, she’d finally run from the cabin.

He wound bandages around Antonga’s chest. His breathing was steady, but he had passed out. The whiskey and exhaustion might be the cause, or he’d fallen into the deep sleep preceding death.

Bloody towels littered the cabin. Reddened water and whiskey puddled on the floor. Olivia would hate the disorder, but his mind was on the question she’d voiced. What if it had been him?

Bear attacks weren’t common, but animals could be unpredictable and dangerous. A knife could slip. A tree could fall the wrong way. Avalanches roared down the mountains with little warning. He could be injured in any number of ways, especially while out trapping.

What if he had been wounded like Antonga? Would he be bleeding to death while Olivia wrung her hands?

He wanted to justify her behavior, to think everything overwhelmed her. He’d thought that, with her beauty and gentle domesticity, he could ignore her lack of suitability and they could make a go of their marriage. He was lying to himself.

If she was to make it here, she would have to rise to the occasion sooner rather than later.

Convincing her to stay by tempting her with the pleasures of the marriage bed was foolish. He should push her to leave.

The door opened and Olivia whispered through, a bucket of snow in cold-reddened hands.

Her gaze darted away. She set a pan on the stovetop and scooped snow into it. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t take it any longer.”

She hadn’t been the one taking anything. Jack closed his eyes. Antonga had been the patient.

Jack rose and leaned over to pick up the towels Olivia had handed him earlier. Embroidered flowers and ivy flowed along the edges. His mother had owned towels like these. She’d put them out for special occasions. Once he’d wiped his muddy hands on one. His mother’s shrill displeasure had never left him.

Her pretty things were ruined. “I’m sorry about your towels.”

“It isn’t as if I’ll have a tea party anytime soon.” She shrugged. “I can make new ones anyway.”

Tension in his shoulders, which he hadn’t even realized was there, eased. Had she appreciated his pitching her quilt and sheets to the side, avoiding their ruin?

“I wasn’t much help.” She stared at the floor.

He resisted the urge to disagree, to say he wouldn’t have managed without her, because it wasn’t true. What was worse, it was a lie that could keep her here when she should leave.

“I just... I just... I don’t have any excuse.”

Had his mother left because dealing with a

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